Drabbles
by soraoathkeeper
Summary: Teen Titan drabbles, used as little writing exercises for myself. Pairings: Most likely platonic Raveast, perhaps with a little bit of RobStar, JinxCy, JinxKF and CyBee. [Drabble Four: Read].
1. Waffles

**Title:** Waffles.  
**Author:** soraoathkeeper  
**Type:** A Teen Titans drabble.  
**Pairings:** Platonic BB/R.  
**Author's Note:** Something that popped into my head. Probably took me less than fifteen minutes, and might be a little cliche, but it's been so long since I've written and finished anything that I can't keep a grin from appearing on my face as I post this. Reviews are sorely appreciated, as are nitpicks.

* * *

Flour. It is all over everything. It coats the counter with a thick cover of white. The ceiling looks like it has received a new layer of paint. Even the couch (how did he get it _there_?) has not escaped the fine powder. 

Raven knows she should be fighting to hold onto her temper right about now. She knows the routine she should go through: disbelief, confusion, anger, followed by punishment of some sort, and a final retreat of shame. It is nothing new to her, and almost certainly nothing new to him.

But for some strange reason, she feels nothing of that sort. Just a type of calm acceptance as she stares at his guilty face. Her eyes travel down to the pathetic pile of waffles he holds. Strange, they don't look like the normal soggy white tofu type - though the white is debatable, considering the flour that is spread over everything.

He catches her look. "They're real," he tells her uncomfortably.

She blinks, eyes straying to the messy kitchen. Eggshells are scattered over the counter, and a milk carton is lying face down in a pool of liquid. Looking at the waffles closer, she realizes that he has spread butter over them. Suddenly, she is willing to bet it is unsalted too, the only type she likes.

"They're for you," he offers unnecessarily.

Before she has a chance to respond, the rest of the team strolls in, talking and laughing loudly. The sudden silence afterwards is disturbing, and she sees him wince instinctively, a preemptive reaction to what he knows is coming.

They go through the normal motions of disbelief, ("Okay, I admit I was dreamin' of a white Christmas this year, but this isn't exactly how I pictured it.") confusion, ("I did not know that Earth weather is able to manifest inside buildings.") and anger, ("Beast Boy, I thought that I had made it clear this Thanksgiving that you can't cook anything that can get on the walls!") but before they can follow through with some type of punishment, she speaks.

"I did it."

Total silence. Every single head cranes towards her, and she is suddenly assaulted by eight pairs of eyes. She doesn't notice. She can only see two dark green ones, ones that are boring into hers with the same type of disbelief and confusion the others showed earlier, something that quickly changes into relief and gratitude.

"I...lost control of my powers for a moment. The bags of flour exploded."

Their teammates look to the counter.

"And the eggs?"

"Were out already. Broke them."

"The milk?"

"Was going to put it into my tea. It spilled."

"The waffles Beast Boy is holding?"

"Found them in the refrigerator. He was warming them up for me."

Suspicion weighs down the air between them, but they reluctantly accept this, choosing not to note the still warm waffle maker next to the stove, nor ask her why she does not have a speck of flour on her. Instead, they hastily leave the area, their noise level increasing the further they get from the kitchen. The doors slide shut, and it is quiet once again.

He looks at her. They both know that he doesn't really need to say it, but he goes ahead anyways. "Thanks."

"Don't thank me yet. I'm not cleaning the mess up."

Out of habit more than anything else, he whines a little as he gets out the sponge and paper towels. He clears out a place at the counter, and sets the still steaming waffles down for her. He lets himself grin at her in pride, and then quickly busies him with cleaning the kitchen.

Hmm, she thinks as she takes a bite, listening to him chatter away as he throws himself into making the kitchen spotless. Not bad. Not bad at all.


	2. Gloves

She really should know Jump City better by now.

She breathes out and watches the cloud of white curl in the air. It is finally December, the coldest month of the year, and she is in the city, walking down the streets and ignoring stares from the civilians. Normally, she loves this weather - gray, cloudy, and very, very cold. It makes her feel grateful for the fact that she remembered to wear thicker clothes over her normal leotard.

But not even her cloak can stop the chill from sinking into her bare hands. She can feel them becoming numb, slowly freezing into two slabs of ice. Why, oh why, out of all the mittens to eat, Silkie chose hers?

She twitches her fingers in the cold air in hopes that the movement will heat them up, but to no avail. She rubs her hands together as fast as she can without attracting attention and feels nothing. She even tries tucking them underneath her armpits, having read once that it was the hottest part of the body. But all she can feel is the chill from her hands, even through her leotard. She will just have to deal with the cold and not think about cozy, heated mittens or steaming hot tea or dancing flames from the fire...

She grits her teeth, and cups her hands against her face, trying to rekindle some heat with her breath. Nothing works. Her fingers remain as icy as before.

"You cold?"

She gives him a quick glance, wondering if he is truly concerned or merely trying to break the silence. He looks back at her, quirking his head to the side inquisitively. He shudders as a stiff gust of wind blows, and she looks away. At least he has gloves on.

"I'm fine."

She can feel his eyes on her, slowly traveling to where her exposed hands tremble slightly in the breeze. _Don't move_, she mentally commands them. They ignore her completely.

She watches him out of the corner of her eye, and sees him standing still, staring at her fingers pensively. He looks as if he wants to say something, but he hesitates, biting his lip. She stops and turns to him now, curious as to what he's restraining himself from doing, but before she can ask him, he's peeling off his oversized gray gloves and holding them out for her.

Her eyes widen in surprise, as she stares at his offering. He doesn't look at her, but she can feel his shame leaking from where his green hands and sharp claws hide beneath the cloth.

"Here."

"But-"

"Take them."

Knowing from experience how adamant he can be, she slowly reaches out for them. He quickly shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, hiding his claws from view. He continues walking, embarrassment wafting after him. She follows, powerwalking to keep up, and pulls the gloves on. They are large and warm, and effectively block the outside chill. Next to her, he is slowing down, and she can feel him calming. Her protected hands are slowly thawing, and she tries not to think about how the heat from his hands warmed them up for her. She fails.

Reluctantly, she begins to take off his gloves, meaning to give them back to him, but stops when he suddenly jerks his head up to look at her. He gives her a quizzical look.

"What're you doing?"

She rolls her eyes.

"Giving you back the gloves. It's obvious you need them more than I do."

He protests, but she can be as stubborn as he, and holds the gloves out for him. He hovers over them, and finally accepts one, which he immediately puts on his left hand. He grins at her.

"There. One for each of us."

She opens her mouth to object, then closes it. Instead, she nods, putting the other one on her right hand, and they continue walking down the street in silence. Their cold hands brush up against each other, and he seizes it without warning, sharp claws brushing against her skin. Before she can object, he draws it inside his toasty jacket pocket. He gives her another oversized grin.

"And now we're both covered. Problem solved."

She snorts, slightly embarrassed, but raises no protest. She tells herself it's purely for practical reasons - it was the only way to get both of their hands out of the cold. He is merely being kind in sharing his heat.

A particularly hard gust of wind whips down the street, and she realizes that for the first time she's _warm_ – both on the inside and out.


	3. Hokey Pokey

**Title:**Hokey Pokey.  
**Author:** soraoathkeeper  
**Type:** A Teen Titans drabble.  
**Pairings:** Starfire, Beast Boy and Raven friendship.  
**Author's Note:** Inspired from doing the Hokey Pokey with my brother. I never liked the song, but it's great to do with a friend. Thing that's bothering me the most is a lack of an ending. Probably the most dialogue I've written in this story so far. Reviews are appreciated as always, as are nitpicks.

"You put your right foot innnnn...! You put your right foot ouuuu-ow!"

"Oh! Many apologies Beast Boy! I did not mean to kick you!"

"I-it's okay Star. Just...oww."

"...Beast Boy?"

"O...kay! You put your left foot innnn...! You put your left foot ouuuut...! You put your left foot innnn and you sh-"

"Could you PLEASE do that somewhere else?"

He huffs at her. "Where else would I teach Star how to do the Hokey Pokey? The roof's too cold, and none of our rooms are big enough."

She gives him a slow, roasting glare. "Somewhere where I'm not trying to read?"

"Why don't YOU go read somewhere else?"

She sniffs. "I was here first. YOU should move."

He ignores her, and turns back to Starfire, smiling. "Ready for the next step?"

"I believe so. But please, should we not invite Raven into joining us?"

His eyes light up, and Raven suddenly has a very bad feeling about the situation. He looks back at her, a silly grin cracking open his face. He doesn't even have to speak - she knows exactly what he's going to say.

"No."

He lets go of Star's hands and bounds over to the couch, skidding to a stop with his hands clasped in front of her. "Oh come on. You know you want to!"

Starfire swoops over to join him, imitating his groveling pose. "Please please Raven! This 'Hokus Pokus' -"

"Hokey Pokey Star."

"Yes, 'Hookie Pookie' is most enjoyable as an Earth pastime! Please join us in celebrating the dance!"

"..."

"Either that or we're gonna annoy you until you DO."

She sighs, and stands up, putting her book to the side. The two scramble back from her, eyes shining, identical grins on their faces.

"All right. Let's just get this over with." She is feverishly hoping that Cyborg and Robin are both too occupied to check in on them.

With a squeal of glee, Beast Boy and Starfire both grab one pale hand and zoom her over to the center of the living room. She barely has time to notice their intertwined fingers of green, gray and orange before Beast Boy starts to sing, with Starfire joining in.

"You put your right arm in...! You put your right arm ouuuut...! You put your right arm in and you shake it all abouuuut!"

Despite her initial reluctance, she soon finds herself caught up in the song. She had always dismissed the Hokey Pokey as a child's game, stupid and mind numbing, but it is amazing what good company can do to even the dumbest things. Beast Boy's clumsiness and Starfire's enthusiasm slowly chip away at her self-conscious manner, and she begins to enjoy the dance.

When they finish going through the entire song, Beast Boy is in stitches, Starfire has rose three feet in the air in joy and Raven is flushed with adrenaline and something akin to bliss. One after another, they collapse on the floor and lay there in silence, catching their breath.

"So...what do you wanna do now?" Beast Boy asks, staring up at the ceiling with his hands tucked behind his head.

Star sits up. "Perhaps we might endorse in a form of entertainment from my planet now?"

Both of them look at Raven for approval.

She raises an eyebrow and her gaze flickers towards the book. She only promised that she'd do the Hokey Pokey with them...but then again, it's not as if the book is going to walk away or disappear if she doesn't go along.

She looks at them, panting and grinning at her hopefully, and shrugs. "Why not?"


	4. Read

**Title:**Reading.  
**Author:** soraoathkeeper  
**Type:** A Teen Titans drabble.  
**Pairings:** Platonic BB/R.  
**Author's Note:** These get more and more cliché the more I write, and seem to get closer to my mock-deadline. Would have been up the twenty-fourth, but I was occupied by Christmas affairs. Again, I am sorry for the increasingly poor quality of the drabbles, and please accept my apology for the late-ness of this. Thank you, and as always reviews/critiques are the best presents ever.

* * *

"What are you reading?" 

"A book."

"Ha ha. Very funny. But seriously, what are you reading?"

She rolls her eyes, and inches the book higher over her face. "If you must know, it's called 'Allies of the Night', the eighth book in the Cirque du Freak series, by Darren Shan." Her voice is terse and on the edge of outright annoyance, but he blunders onwards, oblivious.

"Is it creepy?"

She blows a strand of hair out of her face. "Yes. Very creepy." She bites off the ends of the words, and hopes he will get the hint to leave.

He shuffles around a bit, and hops from one foot to the other. Just when she thinks that, wonders of wonders, he will give up and leave, she hears him sucking in his breath, and blurts out.

"Will you read it to me? Please?"

She sputters. "Beast Boy, you're nearly fifteen. If you want to read it that badly, I'll lend it to you."

He avoids her eyes, and she catches a whiff of deep deep embarrassment. She sighs, irritated - she's never going to get back to reading now that she's curious. She closes the book, and folds her arms over her chest. "Spill."

"What?"

"I said, spill it. What's making you so embarrassed?"

He looks at her with wide eyes, then drops his gaze and mutters something to his shoes.

"I'm sorry, the floor didn't hear that. Would you mind trying again?"

He speaks, louder now, though she has to strain to hear him, even in the silence of the living room.

"I said, I can't read."

He might as well have said that Robin had decided to give up pursuing Slade for good by the way she reacts. "But...you read comics."

"Look at the pictures mostly. I can recognize a few words and numbers, but not enough to really understand a novel."

She gapes at him. "But...how..."

He sighs, and flops down on the couch, still not facing her. "Where I grew up...well, there weren't any schools around, and I was too...preoccupied to be able to attend even if there were. And the Doom Patrol was more concerned with the Brotherhood than education. I mean...Elasti-Girl tried to home school me, so I learned a little from her, but we were always rushing to save the world..." He trails off, his cheeks darkening and shame deepening.

Guilt sinks down to her stomach. She had been privileged enough to have been educated by some of the finest scholars in the multiverse...and she had always mocked his choice of reading. She never knew it was because he didn't know how to read anything else...

She clears her throat and opens her book. "It was an age of war. After six hundred years of peace, the vampires and vampaneze had taken up arms against each other in a brutal, bloody battle to the death..."


End file.
